skyrimkinkmeme | Meme Announcements!

Meme Announcements!

ANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017

Happy Holidays, fellow Kinkmemers! I have returned and have no reasonable excuse for my absence except LIFE. I will be working on updating the archives. If anyone sees anything amiss, please let me know.

I am also hoping to find another Mod and an Archivist.

The more dedicated people we have in this Meme the less chance of it dying. I admit that being the sole keeper of the Meme is not great for the fandom. If something were to happen to me, for good, this place would go the way of the Fallout Kink Meme. Let's not let that happen! If anyone would be interested in Modding/Archiving, please drop me a line. Thanks! <3

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As soon as Skjor left Aela, he headed to the Bannared Mare. There were few patrons this early so he practically had the place to himself. He sit down to consider what had just happened. He had almost lost control when he discovered Aela with the Whelp. He could have seriously hurt her or been hurt himself.

He realized part of it was Reljir himself he objected to. Of all the men in Whiterun, why did Aela have to choose him? The man didn’t behave like a proper whelp. He was invading his territory, showing him up. He had all but taken over training the young ones. The twins were constantly singing his praises. Torvar had stopped drinking so much and was taking his training seriously.

Even Kodlak was keeping secrets from him about this outsider. Skjor had attempted to discuss his concerns with the harbinger. However, Kodlak stated Reljir would play a critical role in the companions and refused to discuss it further.

Skjor decided he would regain the upper hand. He would bide his time and convince Aela to offer Reljir the beast blood. Then the whelp would be forced to submit to him as his alpha. As for the crush Reljir had on Aela, maybe he just needed another woman to focus on.

All the companions except the circle were aware Njada had a crush on Reljir. Skjor himself had found out by listening to them gossip. He would encourage Njada to chase the Whelp. She rarely faltered once she set her mind on something. For Skjor none of this was personal. He was simply protecting his territory.

Skjor found Reljir sparring with Farkas in the training yard shortly after breakfast. It was a beautiful morning. The aroma of cooking fires all over Whiterun wafted in the air. Voices drifted from the square where the vendors were setting up for the day. He joined Vilkas and Ria who were on the porch watching the training. He had never watched Reljir train and he needed to know what he was dealing with.

Reljir fought well, perfectly balanced. Farkas being the taller of the two had a reach advantage. It didn’t help him. No matter what thrust he tried, Reljirs curved sword was there to meet it in a way that seemed effortless. Reljir moved his body with a gracefully harmony, more like a dancer than a lethal warrior. Skjor began to understand what the twins saw in Reljir. The whelp was good. He’d give him that.

The temptation to test his skills against the younger man was compelling. Vilkas threw Skjor a knowing look when he began to warm up. “now we’re in for a treat” was all he said though. Farkas broke off from the training and came over to slap Skjor on the back. “Have fun” he said before exchanging looks with Vilkas.

Skjor didn’t know what that was all about, but he didn’t have time to worry about it. Right now he had to focus on the training. Reljir politely inclined his head and greeted him in a rather formal manner, before taking up a fighting stance. At first the two men made tentative strikes to get the feel of each other.

Reljir moved with a flawless grace that was both uncanny and ruthless. Skjor realized he was facing a master. He wondered how such a young man had developed this level of skill. He was impressed, but he felt his experience gave him a slight edge. There were some things only experience could teach.

Skjor decided to educate his shield-brother. He knew his moves were sharper and less graceful but equally effective. Once the sparring began in earnest, he realized the two of them were evenly matched. He may not be able to thrash Reljir, but he had made his point. Reljir would realize he was dealing with a capable warrior due the proper respect.

He lowered his sword and said “you’re very skilled”. Reljir lowered his sword also “You are very talented as well”. Vilkas came to stand next to Skjor and said “If you’re finished let me have a go at cracking his head”. Skjor was thoughtful as he joined the others on the porch. He had learned what he wanted to know. It was time to arrange a testing for Reljir. Then he would work on Njada.

Reljir was in the kitchen helping Tilma. It was the one place he could avoid Njada. She had been following him around lately making excuses to be wherever he was. Aela had been avoiding him.

It had been an interesting few days. He had kept his promise and retrieved Armens sword from a bandit infested cave. He looked up when Ria entered the kitchen “There you are, Skjor is looking for you’ she said. Reljir was curious, he turned to Tilma “I should go see what he wants”. She waved him off “go on I can finish here”.

Reljir had grown fond of Tilma. At first she had refused his help saying she was the servant. But once she realized he was a competent helper, she had relented; now they were becoming friends. He found Skjor polishing armor in the training yard. “You sent for me?” he asked. Skjor looked up at him “Your time has arrived”. Reljir raised his eyebrows he had no idea what the other man was talking about.

Skjor went on to explain that a fragment of Wuuthrad, the legendary battleaxe once welded by Ysgramor founder of the companions, had been discovered. Reljir was tasked with retrieving it from the barrow called Dustmans Crain. Farkas was to be his shield-brother.

Skjor emphasized that if he completed the mission with honor he would become a full member of the companions. Reljir was deeply touched by the mission. He had been surrounded by legends, myths and prophecies his whole life. It seemed fitting that his initiation into the companions would involve a legendary battleaxe.

It was still an hour before sunrise when Reljir awoke the next morning. He hastily dressed and went to wake Farkas to began the two day trek to Dustmans Cairn. All of the companions even Kodlak had gathered to see them off. Vilkas gave a short speech about the history of Wuuthrad. Aela admonished her shield-brothers to stay safe and uphold the honor of the companions. Reljir took her words to heart. He felt fortunate to have found and been accepted into this body of warriors.

Reljir and Farkas entered Dustmans Cairn setting off a chain of events which ended in the fight of their lives. The two warriors proceeded with caution once they noticed someone had been there recently.

Although the place was crawling with draugr, the first rooms had been relatively easy to get through. The second chamber caused the hairs on Reljirs neck to stand up. He could smell magic and malevolence in the air. The only exit was blocked by a gate.

They found a small cell with a lever obviously some type of trap. They attempted to circumvent it by wedging wood from a nearby chest into the doorway to prevent the gate from closing. Reljir entered the cell and pulled the lever.

The gate crashed down splintering the wood. It turned out to be more rotted than he realized. He found himself locked in the cell. Farkas was left alone to fight a group of attackers. He later learned they were werewolf hunters called the Silver Hand. Fortunately his shield-brother had the presence of mind to use his wolf form.

Reljir learned from Farkas that the circle kept its wolf blood secret from the rest of the companions. For Reljir the incident confirmed what he already knew. The circle were werewolves. The shield-brothers took their time fighting their way through the Sliver Hand and draugr one room at a time. Reljir noticed that deeper into the barrow the draugr were harder to fight. Some even carried ebony weapons and cried out forceful burst of energy.

It all came to a head once they reached the final room. Reljir noticed a curved wall with unknown runes smelling of potent magic. He had encountered a similar Wall in Bleak Falls Barrow. He had been hired by a shopkeeper to retrieve a stolen gold claw. He thought back on what he had learned that day. He realized they would fight the main battle here.

He could sense a number of draugr, but the tombs were inaccessible. The fragments of Wuuthrad rested on a pedestal; there would likely be traps attached to them. Reljir ignored the talking wall and Farkas secured the fragments. All hell broke loose.

Farkas and Reljir fought back to back as they were swarmed with many draugr at once. Even so they were almost overwhelmed by the sheer numbers. Patience, skill and brute force won the day. Just when Reljir thought it was over he felt compelled to approach the carved wall.

He knew what to expect. A low chanting emerged from the wall and the runes started to glow. The chanting grew louder seeming to etch itself on his memory. He felt dizzy and the next thing he knew Farkas was pressing a water skin to his mouth. He felt disoriented and realized he was leaning against the curved wall. He struggled to sit up taking in the carnage all around him. “What was that?” Farkas asked. Reljir didn’t have an answer for him. He didn’t understand it himself.

your story is beautiful even without smut! When you get the inspiration then it will be welcome! I like how you describe the relationship between Vilkas and Ariella, he definitely wants to leave the blood beast! Always waiting for you! Love

Two days later the shield-brothers returned to Jorrvaskar. Before Reljir could wash off the dirt from the road, Vilkas asked him to join the others. Kodlak and the circle members were standing in the training yard. The rest of the companions were gathered on the porch. The twins went to stand with the circle.

Reljir started towards the porch but Koldak asked him to come stand with the circle. The ceremony that followed was brief but meaningful. Farkas paid tribute to the honor of his shield-brother, swearing eternal loyalty. There were cheers all around as the companions welcomed their newest member.

Each companion stopped to greet him personally. Even Skjor was on his best behavior offering congratulations. The others drifted into the mead hall leaving him alone with Kodlak. “Well you’re one of us now, I trust you won’t disappoint” said Kodlak.

He went on to inform Reljir he was to be given the honor of hanging the fragments of Wuuthrad inside Jorrvaskar. Reljir was deeply touched by the gesture. Then preparations for the celebration began. Everyone chipped in to help even Kodlak. Reljir watched the amount of mead being consumed and doubted anyone would be sober when the party actually started.

He was helping Ria polish some tankards, when Kodlak said he had done enough. He was grateful taking time for a bath and a much needed rest. The party was just starting when he made it back to the main floor of Jorrvaskar. Some of the locals had come to the celebration and were milling around mingling. Eorlund was playing a flute accompanied by his wife on the lute and Athis on drums. Reljir spotted Farkas sitting with a nord woman on his lap. They obviously had eyes only for each other. She was pretty with dark hair and beautiful brown eyes.

Reljir was looking around for Aela when she emerged from the living quarters with Skjor and Kodlak. The two men were wearing polished wolf armor. He was surprised Aela was wearing a low cut green dress laced in the front, with a skirt that fell in folds to the floor, carrying the fragments of Wuuthrad. She was captivating. Her modest dress teased his imagination more than her revealing armor ever had. It hinted at secrets he was tempted to discover.

Kodlak cleared his throat and he realized he had been staring. Her fingers brushed his and lingered as she handed him the fragments and he felt his pulse race. He stroked her fingertips as he met those haunting gray eyes. He felt rather than saw her subtle smile.

She was flirting without saying a word. Somehow it felt more intimate than speech. She leaned towards him and he turned his face catching her kiss on his cheek. He didn’t want their first kiss to be rushed in a room full of people.

Aela stood back up something he couldn’t define in her eyes. Was it a promise? She moved back to stand with the others and watch him hang the fragments of Wuuthrad. It was a solemn moment to be savored and celebrated.

The companions had a gift for Reljir. Torvar proudly presented him with six bottles of Blackbriar Mead. Skjor announced that by tradition the newest companion had to drink all six before the party ended. All of the male companions had a hearty laugh at that.

Reljir supposed they had noted he was not much of a drinker. Still he was a good sport and saluted the crowd before starting the first bottle. Two hours later the party was well underway. The companions had outdone themselves. A lavish meal followed by lively dancing and mead had lifted everyone’s spirits.

The mead hall was filled with folks dancing and stomping to the music. Reljir was avoiding Njada again. During the meal she had sat next to him often leaning towards him brushing her breast against his arm as she commented on the food.

Reljir tried to convince himself it was accidental. But, as the meal ended she grabbed his arm and asked him to dance. He didn’t want to be rude so he went along with it. Meanwhile, Aela sitting across from them watched all of this with a guarded expression.

Reljir sought Aela out for the second dance but she saw him coming and quickly led Skjor out to dance. Reljir noticed the amount of attention Aela was giving the other men at the party. She choose a different partner for each dance. He had every confidence she would eventually dance with him.

But then he noticed she was dancing a second time with Skjor. Unwilling to acknowledge his jealously, he asked Njada to dance. His woman was ignoring, him but this one was more than willing. She wrapped her arms around his neck standing much closer than necessary.

He was about to step back when he saw Aela watching. He stopped resisting and allowed Njada to inch even closer to him. As the dance ended Farkas came over with the dark haired nord woman whom he introduced as Lydia.

Reljir learned she was oldest daughter of Jarl Balgruuf and currently in training to be a housecarl. She was hopeful that her father would name a new thane soon. The three of them chatted a bit more before Torvar came over and asked Lydia to dance. Farkas wandered over to sit with Vilkas.

Reljir was tipsy, an indulgence he almost never allowed himself. He found a seat content to watch the dancing for awhile.

Njada suddenly climbed into his lap straddling him. It was no secret that she had taken a shine to him. She had been following him around flirting whenever she had the chance.

The mead was giving her courage to make her move. She wiggled around on his lap, running her hands along his chest. “I you and I are special Reljir, the only ones worth loving” she whispered.

He felt his body respond involuntarily. He bolted up almost spilling her on the floor in the process. Acutely aware of all the eyes avidly watching Reljir was at a loss. He knew could have handled this whole situation better.

He raised and gently kissed her hand. Across the room he spotted an empty spot on a bench between the twins. Moving as fast as he could without running, he quickly walked over and sat between the brothers.

Having watched the whole exchange Vilkas laughed, “Why you push her away? You‘re acting like a virgin!”. Reljir blushed and looked down jaw clenched, refusing to meet his eyes. Farkus not drunk enough to miss the implications exchanged looks with his twin.

Both men looked at Reljir as if to say “You got to be kidding me!”. Reljir wished he had just kept his mouth shut and let the girl tease him. He could imagine the ribbing he was in for from the brothers.

There was no way to explain without revealing to much. There were good reasons sex was frowned upon unless mated. Shadiing males had the potential to pass Hircines gifts to their offspring.

There had been stories of unsuspecting women giving birth to werebears. These cases often ended tragically . If the young bear survived they tended to turn feral causing all sorts of problems.

The Shadiing elder council had imposed the ban on casual sex after a particularly bloody period. Feral werebears had began attacking people and had to be haunted down.

Farkus leaned over to say “I could call her back! She might be intrigued to ride you first”. Vilkas looked over and said slyly “Or if you like men, I know a couple. How about Elrindir over at the Huntsman?” Reljir rolled his eyes and stared at his tanker “Think you could convince Aela to do it?”. He was halfway serious.

Across the room Aela wondered what was going on. Reljir was obviously the butt of some joke. She had never seen the whelp act so unsure of himself. It was kind of sweet that he was just as vulnerable as most people. The twins leaned in to listen to something he was saying. Both shot him incredulous glances before turning in unison to look at her and bursting into laughter. Oh no, whatever it was they were not involving her!

I want to change places with Aela! Now that is a twist.

these two are very sweet together!

I always need to know about Farkas and Aela, there will be an understanding between the two! :D

I need more. Like now. Please.

❤❤❤❤I loved this! hot sweet and passionate! perfect!

I WROTE THIS AT 2AM I AM SO SORRY WORLD

Characters: Female Dragonborn, Onmund, Mirabelle Ervine, Ancano
Genre: Hardcore Porn!
Relationships: Ancano/Mirabelle
Warnings: Size Kink, Unrealistic Sex, Voyeurism
Summary: The Dragonborn and Onmund attempt to prank Ancano only to witness a rendevous between him and the master wizard, Mirabelle.

Tags: char:F!DB, char:onmund, char:mirabelle_ervine, char:ancano, kink:size, kink:voyeurism, relationship:het

Notes: Yeah, I made a crack pairing for this and I doubt in game canon Mirabelle would touch Ancano with a ten-foot pole but at the same time, Altmer cocks. The. Sizes. ...Or so I tell myself.

"Come on!" she encouraged him, sneaking past Enthir’s room and quietly looking down the opening in the second floor to the hall below, trying hard not to laugh as she did. There seemed to still be no one inside the Hall of Attainment still and she giggled, standing at the top of the stairs encouraging Onmund to follow. He sighed and begrudgingly came up behind her, holding the Alto wine bottles in his hands.

"Alla, we shouldn't," he protested. "If Ancano comes back..."

"Oh come on, Onmund! Everyone here hates him!" she said with a giggle, holding up the bottles of mead she had grabbed. "A little framing never hurt anyone!"

He scowled. "Framing others hurts people all the time!"

She paused. "Yeah but this is Ancano, a Thalmor agent! Come off it!" she snuck down the stairs towards his room, trying to be quiet as she did but the bottles clinking against each other combined with her own muffled chuckling over the thoughts of his face when he saw his bed made it impossible. She heard Onmund hiss at her so be quiet and she bit her tongue. Slowly they entered the Thalmor Agent’s dark little room – or old storage unit to be more precise – and she started placing the bottles on his bed in a particular manner. Onmund merely sat all the Alto Wine on a hay bale and she scowled at him.

“No! Make it look like he stole them!” she snapped. “Like this!” She proceeded to hide some under his bed, slipping them just out of view behind a few barrels and inside his chest. Onmund sighed and attempted but he made no effort to disguise what they did. She ended up brushing him off, placing the bottles strategically herself and she had to cover her mouth as more bubbles of laughter came up.

Onmund scowled at her. “This is stupid!”

“Oh, be quiet!” she cut back. “Honestly, for a Nord you really have no sense of adventure!”

“Y-Yes I do!” he protested and she turned, ready to fight him on the matter when the sounds of the door to the hall being opened distracted them. They panicked, rushing out of Ancano’s room and Alla immediately crouched, sneaking alongside the focus point of energy in the middle of the room, Onmund right behind her.

In strode Ancano, rubbing his temples as he did and Alla immediately covered her mouth, watching. She felt Onmund push her and they circled the focus point as Ancano did and when they were near the entry, she grabbed Onmund and pulled him into her room, both sticking to the sides of the stone wall. She had minimal view of his room making her mutter and try to see better but Onmund held her back.

“We’re going to get caught!” he said in a desperate voice and she furrowed her brows at him, pushing him away from her. She heard a loud sigh come from Ancano’s room and she strained to see him. The Thalmor was pulling a wine bottle out from underneath his bed and she almost let out a laugh right there, his face priceless as he looked at it with a hidden fury as if he knew someone was pranking him.

She had to bury herself against Onmund to keep from laughing out loud and she heard the sound of bottles being tossed, angry muttering coming from the Thalmor. She peeked, seeing him knocking the bottles away from under his bed and the door to the hall opened making her and Onmund pause. The sounds of it shutting came and soft footfall on the stones; Alla held her breath, watching for who came in and she noticed that Ancano did too. He came out to stand at the entry to his room, waiting and the Master Wizard Mirabelle strode by, aiming for Ancano. Alla looked to Onmund almost gleefully but he in turn didn't look too pleased and she ended up scowling, ignoring him.

Mirabelle came to stop in front of the Thalmor, her small frame dwarfed by him and Alla found herself watching, biting her lip. Mirabelle disliked Ancano more than anyone and if she saw the extra bottles... It was like a perfect scenario; she waited with baited breath. The two of them merely stared at each other.

Alla watched from her hiding place, completely entranced. Why weren’t they doing anything?

"Were you followed in?" he asked and she shook her head, pulling out a potion and handing it to him.

"No, but this needs to be quick. I cannot be away from my duties for long and you know that," she said and he said nothing as he pulled the cork off. Alla frowned, trying to see but Mirabelle was blocking what they were doing. She found herself straining, curious and she finally decided to move to the entry way – a better position – to watch, sneaking skillfully around the corner to the dark archway and ignoring the tugging on her robes as she did.

She got into position, able to see clearly now straight to his room and the two seemed distracted with each other to notice she had snuck out. A moment later, Onmund came crouching out and Alla felt her heart stop. She shook her head, making the motion he should stay but he briskly crawled to her, his eyes wide and his stress showing. He pulled her into the corner, making the motion that he was going to kill her and she hit him for almost giving them up.

A shifting made them freeze and they waited, not daring to breath. No one came forward or shouted their names and after a second she heard a strained breath. She tried to peek, Onmund preventing her for a second before a pinch to his side stopped him. She peered around the corner and felt her breath hitch as she stared to where the master wizard and Thalmor agent had been.

Mirabelle was on her knees in front of him, both standing in the dark of his room but she could make them out. Her head was moving against his lower torso and Alla flushed; she didn’t need a Masters degree to figure out what they were doing.

She heard Onmund above her let out a shocked cry and she turned, ready to kick him when she saw his face. He was staring at them, horrified. She in turn lowered her fist and touched his arm making him jerk. He went back to hiding, mortified and she pursed her lips, finding herself still watching. How was this happening?

Out of everyone at the college, Mirabelle was the one who was most hostile to Ancano. She had heard them having barbed words more than a few times while she made her way around the college so to see her before her knees obviously sucking him off didn’t make sense. It couldn’t just be an act, Mirabelle would never betray the College.

Alla found herself more distressed and she heard a moan escape the Thalmor agent making her shudder. That was something she never wanted to hear.

“A-Alla,” Onmund whispered from near her and she looked to him. He pointed at the door, indicating they should leave and she shook her head. They would hear them. That damned door had a squeak that could alert the Jarl of Markarth and she wasn’t in the mood to get caught by either of them.

He looked at her distressed and before she could come up with a plan, Ancano let out a moan. “Good girl,” he said and Mirabelle let out a gasp making both the students shudder. Onmund covered his ears and Alla moved to standing beside him trying not to wretch.

“Ancano,” Mirabelle said in a breathless voice. “I don’t have all day.”

“Yes, yes, fine,” he replied and Alla was almost ready to leave, not wanting to know how much further this would go when the master wizard let out a small cry. It sounded like she was… enjoying it. She had to see, moving to look around the corner and she stared as Mirabelle grabbed her robes, holding them around her chest while Ancano reached between her legs. He was pouring something from the potion bottle Mirabelle had given him earlier onto his hands and she couldn’t tear her eyes away as his gloved fingers went inside the Breton.

Mirabelle whimpered and he stood up, towering over her and Alla felt her cheeks become red. She could hear his fingers sliding deep into her from the entry, the slick noises mixing with Mirabelle’s pants and after a second he drew away. He turned the Breton around, grabbing her hips as he did and she was shocked to see how aroused Mirabelle looked. The Breton was panting, licking her lips and bending slightly to spread her legs and the damned Thalmor seemed to be enjoying it.

“Don’t,” Alla found herself whispered. “Don’t, Ancano, don’t.”

“Ancano,” Mirabelle said almost as a response. “Please. Just do it.”

The Thalmor agent leaned down, kissing the top of her head before he spread her thighs and thrust in with a single stroke. Alla covered her mouth to stop herself from shouting and Mirabelle let out a scream, her back arching to the point where it seemed like it would break. She let out a moan that sounded like it belonged to someone else, not their proper master wizard and Alla moved back into the shadows, feeling her heart racing.

She looked to Onmund who seemed catatonic. He was staring at the entry door, his pupils dilating and Mirabelle let out another cry making him close his eyes and cover his ears more. Alla felt her chest rising and falling and the two of them stood awkwardly in the entrance listening to their elder get fucked by the most hated man on campus.

Her moaning didn’t help. “Harder! Harder!” she shouted at him and Alla found her gaze moving, staring at the two of them from her half-hidden position. She was bent over his bed now, her forehead pressed against it as her legs spread wide for him and Alla watched in morbid fascination.

Ancano was huge. She couldn’t even believe he could fit into the Breton’s body but after watching him she realized he wasn’t going in fully. She felt her own sex pulse, throbbing at watching the lewd scene and she licked her lips, moving until she was against the stone wall, closer but still hidden to see. Onmund stirred next to her but she ignored him. She needed to see this, to understand further why Mirabelle was letting Ancano do such a thing.

She suspected his cock was most of the reason.

“A-Ancano!” she panted and he grabbed her by the waist, pushing her onto the bed into a dog-style position. She rode him, more than happy to as her expression showed and Alla bit her lip as she watched. There was no bit of kindness in his actions yet Mirabelle was loving it. It made her ache.

She felt Onmund against her, now looking too and they watched as Mirabelle slowly lost her ability to remain on all fours, her arms buckling until Ancano shifted her and they were on their side. Onmund covered his mouth, his eyes still trained on them and Alla pulled at his sleeve as she watched.

"O-Oh my... Akatosh above, look!" she hissed and he shook his head, his hand clasped tight over his mouth now but still watching as if he was unable to look away. "Oh gods! I can see him fucking her! Look!"

The master wizard let out a strangled cry, her robes riding up around her bust and Ancano gripped her hips hard, thrusting at an angle where there was a bulge in her lower body. Mirabelle's eyes widened and she let out a cry, bucking back. He angrily kissed her neck, his tongue flat against her jaw and she reached down to hold her leg up, evidentially exciting him more. Alla watched in fascination as the bulge would disappear as he drew back but when he drove forward, it was if it was going to open her up.

She let out a cry. "A-Ancano! A-Ah! Ancano, yes! More!"

He shoved two fingers in her mouth, silencing her screams but her moans could still be heard escaping from her throat, the bed scraping against the floor. His other hand reached down to grab her leg, holding it for her and she twisted in her spot, trying to keep herself at the angle as he fucked her but her grip was loosening.

The sounds of it could be heard across the room and Alla felt her own body start throbbing hard. Watching the horrible Altmer and the Master Wizard, how Mirabelle thrust back against him, her eyes rolling into the back of her skull, her panting and sucking on his fingers echoing in the hall… She reached down and pressed a hand against her abdomen and she felt Onmund stir from beside her. He had finally stopped watching, back in the shadows against the stone wall and his eyes were set forward but his mouth was still covered, a bulge in his robes.

Alla pursed her lips but went back to watching. Ancano roughly pressed the little Breton down on his bed, his strokes long and hard and she could almost swear she felt them inside herself, his movements that powerful. He began to hiss and Mirabelle struggled from below but her spreading legs and moans indicated she was in no pain. He thrust in once, held himself while digging into her hips, then rapidly pounded her to the point where she screamed before he pulled away, sticky white come spilling from her thighs. Alla felt herself pant.

Mirabelle let out a loud groan, her hair sticking to her face as she pressed her cheek against the blankets on his bed. He said nothing, only watching her before he slid off and tucked himself back in. He straightened his robes, slicked back his hair and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. Mirabelle only shuddered and rolled slightly, come still leaking from her body.

"A... Ancano," she breathed out and he grabbed her robes, pulling them down before he collected her in his arms. He strode out into the hall, looking around and Alla pulled back, flattening herself against Onmund who looked distressed. She hissed at him and put a finger to her lips, ignoring his erection against her leg. She listened as Ancano moved against the stone, his footsteps hitting the stairs and they became distant as he carried Mirabelle up them, possibly to her own room.

Alla took the opportunity to leave her spot, rushing to her room to grab a drink of water and she froze when she heard the footsteps coming back. She prayed for Onmund, remained hidden herself but Ancano merely strode past, not looking into the rooms and after a minute the door to the Hall was opened and shut loudly. She rushed back to where the Nord Mage had been and found him curled in the dark corner, his entire face a deep shade of crimson and his body bent, hiding his erection.

She said nothing, awkwardly patting his shoulder before she left, not wishing to discuss what they had seen. The moans kept echoing in her head, of Ancano's cock being pushed against the Breton's stomach and she rushed out of the college grounds, running down to the crumbling city of Winterhold to the Frozen Hearth. She ignored the greetings, the look from Haran as she passed by him to the cellar and she found Enthir, Orthorn and Nelacar down in it, a pair of dice on the table and some cards. She ran to Nelacar, forcing herself into his lap making him stiffen.

"Alla!" he spat. "W-What is the meaning of this!? This... This improper-"

"Fuck me," she breathed out and he stopped talking, looking to her in shock. "Fuck me, Nelacar, by the gods, fuck me. Fuck me with your damned Altmer cock."

Enthir dropped his cards. "Ho, ho, ho. I like where this is going!" Orthorn merely flushed from his seat.

Nelacar continued to gape at her. "W-What? What do you mean?!"

She grabbed him from under his robes and he jerked a bit, not expecting her to do such a thing. "A bulge," she babbled. "Fuck me so I feel it in my stomach. I know how big you are and I know you can do it. So please, fuck me. Fuck me! Until you can see it when you're fucking me!" she begged. "Own me. Use me. Do it until I cannot get up. Stain me with your Altmer come, Nelacar!"

He said nothing and looked to his friends. Enthir gave him a thumbs up and Orthorn shook his head. She forced him to look back at her, grinding her hips against him making him hiss. "Nelacar!"

"A-Alright, just... calm down," he said, his cheeks flushing. "I'll... do whatever you want."

--

I lost it with the Ancano/Mirabelle, they're my secret otp since I found this kink meme and learned their fascination with the Altmer/Breton ship, because they're there every fucking day on the college together, why couldn't anybody write fic for them! but you did, and now I love you!

Damn, that was hot as well as hilarious.

I'm not sure what hovel I crawled into BUT.

I'm still not sure how to process this ending xD It's gorgeous and beautiful and all then things I've learned to expect from the glorious A!A and even though a few things made me kinda wince (I'm a fucking wuss and a sap so ignore me), it's also refreshing to see someone who's DB just... does their thing.

Also I'm officially headcannoning that Serano took Hadvar's advice and until there's a solid fic piece to prove me wrong then that is the reality I will choose to live in.

Hgn. You gave me so much but I still want more. I'm not even sorry I love it soooooooo much.

I'll just bend stuff a bit to suit my purposes. Just know that it will all play its own part ouo

I'd kill 5 people and punch 3 just to see how Ancano and Mirabelle started this and decided on casual sex. I need more fic of my College OTP.

An attempt was made at formally welcoming Audric Bellamy into Windhelm. Ulfric had arranged for a fine dinner to be prepared, and had even decided to dress for the occasion. Upon his arrival, Galmar did not bother to disguise his laughter.

“Subtlety might be becoming on you, if only you could fit into it,” Ulfric smiled.

“Not as becoming as you in all this finery,” he gibed. “Is all this for the Breton?”

“That Breton is the reason I’m standing before you at all,” he replied. “The reason you’re not still rotting in a cell.”

The sun had fallen, its bloody light bursting past the tips of bare branches. As the world descended into evening, the curtains were opened, allowing the last decaying light of day to flood the palace rooms. When Audric appeared at last, his housecarl at his side, he seemed a shadow of himself. Throughout dinner, he kept quiet, answering questions with stock answers, making little in the way of conversation. He lacked his usual charm, his enthusiasm; he neither quipped nor laughed nor hardly drew more than slight breath. Rather, he was somber, subdued.

Ulfric did not make him sit through dessert.

“You must be tired.”

Audric shrugged, nodded.

“Is there anything you need, apart from a warm bed?”

At last, his lips pulled into a wispy smile. “A hot bath and some fine wine might do it.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

As Audric was shown to the apartments reserved for him, Ulfric looked on, concerned. To anyone else, he might have seemed puzzled or simply occupied, but he was plain as day to his old friend.

“You’re worried about him,” Galmar observed gruffly.

“He was not himself, this evening.”

“It’s a long ride from Riften. Though I’m sure he’s a delight.”

Ulfric snorted. “He can be quite disarming, when he feels up to it.”

“Disarming, eh?” Galmar ribbed him in the side. “I don’t suppose you mean that in the classical sense.”

Miffed, Ulfric’s jaw tightened. “The ‘classical sense?’ Galmar, I think your time with the Imperials has done things for you.” A pause ensued wherein Ulfric wondered if he'd gone too far.

But Galmar did not disappoint. “No more than your time with the Breton has done for you.”

All the rooms were dark, shrouded nests between slats of stone and wood. Audric sank in the great iron tub, hugging his knees to his chest. He dared tread the edge of sleep, even as the waterline tickled his chin. He retreated within himself, shrinking away from the world, not thinking about all that needed doing. He unfurled and breathed deeply. At last, he immersed himself, coming up for air only once his chest burned. Endeavoring to bathe after nine hours of being rocked and jostled, bumped and lacerated by his own worldly possessions, he gave himself a thorough scrub and soaked his hair not once, but twice. It was not his own soap, however, not his tonics, and he felt out of place.

It was only when the water turned cool and his skin began to rise that he finally got out, swathing himself in a warm, soft robe. And he realized, as he crept carefully into his room, that he was exhausted. He cocooned himself in bed and took to dreaming, safe and warm. His waking life fell, diminished, into the far corners of his mind, and where consciousness dropped off, imagination took up. He dreamed of strong shoulders, a pair of steadfast arms to hold him near; warm breath as it eddied between bodies, a low voice in his ear, like a summer storm.

Audric often dreamed of his lovers, past, present, and potential. He was born to it, after all, that most exquisite sign, more graceful than all others. He dreamed of wet kisses, and sweet touches; he dreamed of push-pull warfare waged in secret, and of covenants forged with skin in the meek light of morning.

Of all mundane pleasures, sex was Audric’s almost-favorite.

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